Wouldn't Ever Want Anybody Else

Summary:

Louis and Harry’s relationship has fairly recently turned sexual, and Louis’ bodily insecurities get in the way of something that he really wants. Meanwhile, Zayn and Liam deal with coming out as a couple to the band.

Notes:

I tried to make this under 10k, but that obviously didn't work. It's a bunch of dialogue, but don't give up on it. :) Beware of a few inaccuracies, etc. It's fiction.

Chapter Text

Louis’ pout was exaggerated as he looked at Harry with sad eyes, wrapping the sheet around his waist and sitting up against the headboard of the bed.

“Aw, babe,” Harry groaned, looping his belt into his trousers. Shirtless, he crossed the room in a few long strides, taking Louis’ face in his hands and sucking that protruding lip in his mouth. He smiled forlornly at Louis before kissing him again. “Look on the bright side. It’ll just be three days. We’ll talk every night. It’ll pass in no time at all.”

Harry put his shirt on quickly and tucked it into his trousers, looking over at Louis while he fastened his belt.

Louis looked on and sighed. “It’s so unfair how they’re separating us. Niall and Liam in Birmingham, you in Manchester. Only me and Zayn here in London… We’re a band, dammit. We shouldn’t have to be doing all of this shit individually. Come to think of it, we shouldn’t have to be doing this shit at all—why do separate promo at all when it’s not even band-related shit we’re ‘promoting’?”

Putting on a jumper, Harry quietly answered, “You know what they said, Lou.”

Louis’ response was short. “Yeah, yeah. Though I highly doubt that the fact that I like YorkshireTea will sell albums.”

Harry lowered his head, ran his fingers through his hair, and swiped his head to the side as he looked back at Louis. Eventually, he sat down on the side of the bed and put his hand on Louis’ knee. “There’s nothing I could’ve done, Lou. I tried, but—”

“I know, Hazza. I’m not blaming you.” Louis reached up and delicately tucked a stray curl behind Harry’s ear. Eventually, he shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry you have to be alone.”

Harry tried to change the subject and lighten the mood before his departure. Pressing his lips to Louis’ in a series of short pecks, he said against his mouth, “Don’t worry about me. I just don’t want you to have to be alone. You should stay with Zayn while I’m gone.”

“Mm,” Harry acknowledged as he removed his lips from Louis with a small smile. “Well, don’t forget me, please. Drunk-dialing is encouraged.”

The time had come for Harry to leave, and they couldn’t prolong it anymore. Louis put on one of Harry’s large jumpers and followed him pants-less all the way to the foyer, where both boys stalled saying their inevitable goodbyes.

“Nice way to remember you by for the next few days,” Harry commented, reaching down and squeezing Louis’ bare arse in his hands. Louis smiled and leaned into Harry’s hold, reluctantly breaking away with one last kiss.

“I’ll talk to you tonight, boo,” Harry finally said. “Have fun with Zayn.” As he walked to his vehicle, he mouthed “I love you” at Louis, smiling softly when Louis, hiding himself behind the entry door, mouthed it back. Then he was gone.

The house was big and empty, and Louis hated it whenever he was by himself. In just the short time that they’d lived there together, they had turned it into home, and now, without Harry, it was cold.

Louis was unsettled. He fell back into bed and stared at the ceiling fan for an unknown amount of time, lost in his thoughts. He and Harry had just had goodbye sex—really good goodbye sex—and yet Louis wasn’t as blissed out as he usually would be. He wasn’t disappointed by any means, but he was becoming fretful to the point of anxiety that Harry was disappointed, or at least would eventually grow to be disappointed. As much as he hated to admit it, he still wasn’t convinced that he was completely satisfying Harry in bed.

Louis had learned to deal with his particular kinks, including the strong one of wanting to submit in bed, over the years since he discovered his sexuality. Mostly it had been a bunch of self-denial, only giving into fantasy occasionally, until he finally, miraculously, met Harry. He hadn’t even wanted to admit to himself that he was gay, so admitting that he liked to be told what to do—to have someone completely take control of him in between the sheets—on top of his sexuality…well, it was a bit much.

As Louis was still learning how to be completely comfortable with himself, he had been a little slow to show his vulnerabilities in bed. It had been a hard process for him to learn to accept himself, let alone have somebody else accept him, too. Louis started off not turning on the lights when they were fooling around, not fully taking his clothes off. But they had gotten past that; Harry was perfect throughout everything.

Harry was a great listener, and what made it better was that Harry shared the exact same fetish as he did: that craving for a power-shift in bed. Louis often thought on it and snickered, because in everyday life, Louis had the bossy personality and Harry the nice, agreeable one. It was funny how sex changed all of those dynamics up, how both boys took on completely opposite roles.

Despite how comfortable Louis had grown to be with Harry, he still had a major insecurity he couldn’t let go of. He had never even told Harry about it, and he doubted Harry even noticed his true feelings because of how good he was at hiding his thoughts. Yes, he wore tight clothes willingly, but the fact of the matter was that he had a fat stomach that he hated. He could hold it in when pictures were being taken all he wanted, but underneath it all, it was still there. He hated to wear baggy clothing just to cover it up, so he continued wearing everything he’d always worn; his clothing had just gotten a tad tighter on him over time.

So back to where his currents thoughts lay: He and Harry were both each other’s firsts, so it wasn’t as if Harry would have an awful lot to compare Louis to, but still… Louis felt that, more often than not, Harry did all the work when they had sex. Sure, they both loved Domineering Harry, and sure, Louis was enthusiastic when Harry was thrusting into him, always moving back into him unless he was told not to, but the fact of the matter was that after months and months of being sexual with their relationship, Louis still had never been on top of Harry. He was sure that it would just draw all of Harry’s attention to his stomach, and he was more than a little hesitant to be in that kind of vulnerable position. And it wasn’t like Harry ever said anything about it, but he had to have noticed, right? He had to have. He was probably just too much of a gentleman to ever say anything about it…

Louis put on a pair of briefs and began doing sit-ups by his bed in vain. When he finally got tired and too sweaty, he decided to take a shower and try his best to put his stupid thoughts out of his head. As he turned on the shower and undressed, he couldn’t help pausing in front of the mirror, however, turning sideways and scrutinizing his stomach. He was so short and so petite, and his stomach just didn’t fit his frame. He pinched the loose skin disdainfully with a frown painted on his face.

After his shower, he dressed in another one of Harry’s jumpers and poured himself a beer, waiting for Zayn to come over with the bottle of vodka.

Zayn and Louis ate some pizza together while drinking beer and watching television. A little bit into the night, they’d begun drinking at a much faster pace while chatting. Mostly about football…Zayn’s art…music….safe topics.

Louis couldn’t help that he really wanted to talk about Harry. His earlier thoughts had been coming back, and he and Zayn were buzzed enough to be crude—as if they needed alcohol in the first place for that. But Louis couldn’t justify sharing with Zayn the particular problem he was facing. That would just be crossing a giant line. How would he even phrase that? “I like cock up my ass and really want to ride Harry but feel like I’m too fat and I know that’s all Harry would see—Do you have any advice for me?”

Yeah, right. But that didn’t mean that Louis couldn’t steer the topic that way. He wanted to see where the conversation would go…

“Have you ever, like, thought you were in love?” Louis asked casually, sitting in his recliner with his legs tucked under him.

Zayn blushed, and Louis wasn’t as vigilant as he normally was sober, so he didn’t catch it. He just shrugged and turned the question back to Louis.

“Well, with Harry, yeah, it was like I just knew immediately. Even though I’ve never really been with a guy—”

“No, no, I mean, we have, obviously,” Louis assured, not knowing how to put words to what he was trying to say. “I just mean, like, actual-relationship-wise. Before Harry. So I never had the opportunity to even think I was in love.”

If it weren’t for the alcohol, he would be too embarrassed to even be discussing this with Zayn right now. Not that he was a prude by any means, but he didn’t want to gross out the guys (either with mushy stuff or sexy stuff). Plus, what he and Harry had was kind of special…between just them. Louis figured that as much as the other boys witnessed him and Harry kissing and cuddling, he could at least spare them with all the juicy details of their sex-life. Despite how much he wanted to.

Louis began laughing just as he put his straw in his mouth, smiling as he bit down on it. Zayn’s earlier words were just now hitting him. “We’ve had lots of sex, for your information. It’s just—”

“Not good?”

“Oh, my God, Zayn, shut the fuck up, you never talk this much,” Louis interrupted as he began laughing again. “No! That wasn’t even remotely close to what I was going to say. It’s very good, as a matter of fact. The best. I’m actually offended that you’d even think that, to be fair. I mean, have you seen Harry? Have you seen me?”

Zayn barked out a laugh. “Jesus, Lou! Cocky, much?”

Louis knew he sounded vain, but sometimes it was the only way to counteract how self-conscious he always felt. Plus, Zayn was one to talk. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from the guy who’s in love with his mirror.” Louis laughed more when Zayn threw the nearest item, a pillow, at his head. Louis threw it back and laughed more, making him feel as if this were some girly slumber party. First gossiping about his boyfriend, now throwing pillows.

“What was I even going to say?” Louis gasped out, holding his stomach. His chest hurt from laughing so much. He was getting pissed quickly. He wasted no time in sucking down more liquid from his straw. “What was my point?”

“I dunno, mate,” Zayn said as his own laughter died down. “You have lots of sex with Harry. Congratulations.”

“Oh! Oh, right,” Louis said, glad to avoid speaking about other relationship stuff. “I have tons of sex with Harry.”

“That’s it? That’s all you wanted to say? Well, thanks for sharing. I can cross that off my list of things I desperately needed to know before I die.”

Louis’ laughter died down to small, light chuckles. Zayn put his straw to his lips, scrutinizing Louis with raised eyebrows.

“No—I just…I don’t want to gross you out,” he lied. He hated sharing his insecurities, even to members of the band. Even to Zayn. Unlike an actual slumber party, where Louis imagined girls sat around and gossiped about their boyfriends, he didn’t really have anyone to talk about sex with who’d actually want to hear what he had to say. Besides Harry himself.

“You’re good, mate. Since when have your sexual exploits with Harry grossed me out? It’s not like you keep it a secret or anything.”

Louis shrugged. “I mean—It’s just…personal, I guess.”

“More personal than when he pinned you against the wall in the studio while the rest of us were just metres away recording?”

Louis choked on his drink as he wondered just how much of that Zayn had seen. As if reading Louis’ mind, Zayn gave him a knowing look. “Or when you two suspiciously went to the toilets together during a recording break and Niall kept hearing noises through the vents? And you had said that you and Harry were practicing vocals together?”

Louis’ face was positively scarlet, but he grinned. “Well, we were practicing vocals, to be fair.”

“Actually, come to think of it,” Zayn went on, grinning too, “what is it with you two and recording studios? Does it get the both of you all randy knowing you’re recording an album together or something?”

“Okay, okay,” Louis relented. “But at least we try to be sneaky.”

“Or that time in that hotel with the thin walls,” Zayn went on. “Or, those times in the multiple hotels with thin walls.”

“Okay! I get it! Jesus! Get me more drunk and then maybe I’ll spill. It’s really nothing, though.”

Both of the boys’ northern accents were almost indistinguishable as they got further into their drinking. Louis’ fast-paced speaking coupled with Zayn’s slurred sentences definitely signaled exactly how drunk they were. Neither knew what time it was; they had been too busy rambling on about random nonsense, laughing.

“So,” Zayn said, rolling onto his back on the carpet and putting his hands on his stomach, “if you won’t talk about your sex life, I guess I can talk about mine.”

“I’m not particularly dying for information, mate. Keep whatever you want to yourself and that’ll be fine by me.” Earlier, they had been talking about relationship stuff, which was completely fine, but hearing about Zayn shagging women slightly grossed him out. This was exactly his point in why he didn’t want to share things about him and Harry; it would do the very same thing to Zayn.

“Yeah, no, I know,” Zayn said, suddenly serious. “But it’s something I’ve been needing—wanting—to do for a while now.”

Louis raised his eyebrows, though Zayn wouldn’t have been able to see; he was watching the ceiling.

“So since I’ve got a bit of liquid courage, I might as well say it…” Zayn murmured. “This is going to be completely random, just please don’t freak out.”

“Zayn,” Louis asked in a serious voice, “are you pregnant?”

“No, I’m serious, man, just listen.”

“Listening,” Louis sung.

“This is so weird,” Zayn mumbled to himself again.

“Well fuck, Zayn, what is it?”

Zayn took a huge breath and sighed. “I’m kind of…” The second that he thought he was okay to say it, his heart began to pound in his chest. “So, it’s like this,” he tried again.

Louis’ face was frozen as he looked down at Zayn, who still wasn’t meeting his eyes. Did Zayn just mean to say that, or was that just a huge case of bad wording? “Wha—You—What? Wait, what?”

“Me and Liam,” Zayn repeated, a little louder. “We’re…a thing.”

Louis’ face was still uncomprehending. “But you—what?” It took a few seconds for the words to sink in for Louis. Suddenly, he seemed to accept what Zayn was telling him, and he began repeatedly kicking his heels on the chair in excitement. “Have you—did you—“ Louis made a crude hand gesture, and Zayn met his eyes and smirked. “Oh, my GOD—you didn’t!”

“Oh, my GOD, I did,” Zayn replied, mocking Louis but blushing at the same time. “More than once,” he whispered. He’d been dying to tell someone after months of keeping it hidden, and he was really happy to have Louis be the first to hear from his mouth. It was still a little weird, but he felt so relieved getting it off his chest.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait,” Louis said as he held up his hands and scurried to the floor beside Zayn. Things were suddenly becoming blurry. “What exactly does she know?”

“Er, everything.”

“And she’s not, like, weirded out at all that her boyfriend shags another guy? Or—” Louis looked at Zayn speculatively. “—Or gets shagged by another guy?”

“Shags,” Zayn corrected. He ran his hands on his face as if he were scrubbing away dirt. Louis was positively bursting with energy at finding out all of this new information.

“Oooh!” Louis proclaimed. “Fellow bottoms unite!” He held out his hand for a high-five. Zayn reluctantly connected his hand to Louis’, looking sheepish. “I can’t believe this,” Louis rambled. “Wow, just wow. How long’s this been going on then?”

Zayn sighed. “Awhile. I—Things between them weren’t really working out anymore. And both of them knew it…and then things between us just kind of happened.”

“Well, why don’t they split up?”

“They have already. Liam and I’ve kind of been waiting to tell people.”

“This is so much information,” Louis reveled. “So back up. Rewind. Start from the beginning.”

Zayn grinned. “Um, well, what do you want to know?”

“Everything. This is earth-shattering information. I need to know everything. Why have you waited so long to tell me?!”

“So if I tell you everything you so nosily want to know now, what’s in it for me?”

“Deal,” Louis smiled. “I feel like the perviest guy on the planet right now. This is insane. So, anyway, though, yes, do proceed. Start from the beginning.”

“Well, once upon a time, Liam took me on a moonlit walk on the beach—“ Zayn’s speech was cut-off by a punch in the arm from Louis. “Ow! Okay, Jesus, ow. I mean, you know how we always spend a lot of time together…Things just…” Zayn gesticulated in front of his body, trying to catch the words he was trying to use, “…happened.” He shrugged.

“But he was with Danielle the whole time?”

“In label but not in heart.”

“Deep.” Louis poured two shots in front of him and gestured for Zayn to take one with him. Screwing up his face after he swallowed the liquid, Louis asked, “So, like, how long exactly has this been going on?”

Zayn’s voice was rough, too, from the alcohol he’d just drank. “A few months now.”

“And how long has she known?”

“Almost the entire time. We hadn’t even really done anything when he confessed to her that he wasn’t really being fair to her and all that.”

“And she was all, ‘Okay Leeyum, no problem here! Maybe I can even join you in bed, wouldn’t that be a blast—’”

“I mean, she was there one time, but it wasn’t like—”

“What?! What even are you?” Louis interrupted. “I can’t believe you’re telling me this right now. Cannot believe this. This is straight out of some porno video!” Louis scooted even closer to Zayn to actually look clearly down at his face. He could usually tell when Zayn was being cheeky, and at the moment, he looked sincere. “You’re one hundred percent serious, then?”

“Well, I mean, yeah, I’m serious…sounds crazy as fuck, but yeah, I’m serious.” He sat up and leaned against the back of the sofa, staring at Louis staring at him. “It sounds really weird when it’s said out loud, but I swear it’s nothing…crazy like that. Normally it’s just me and Liam. Like, there was just that one time. And now she’s clearly out of the picture and all.”

“So, how are things with darling Liam then?” Louis asked while wagging his eyebrows.

Zayn blushed and smiled. He looked love-sick as he moved his head to stare out into the room with glazed eyes. “Perfect.”

“Awwww,” Louis gushed. “Let’s celebrate!” Louis filled the shot glasses with more liquor, spilling quite a bit on the floor.

“Maybe we should slow down, Lou,” Zayn suggested with wide eyes. “We literally just took a shot.”

“Last one then I’m switching to beer,” Louis swore as he crossed his chest with his fingers.

“Fine,” Zayn agreed, giggling—giggling—as he lifted the shot glass and met it to Louis’ with a clink. More alcohol spilled onto the floor.

Louis’ mouth felt sore from smiling so widely. Life didn’t normally work out like this, did it? Just earlier, he was desperately hoping that he had somebody to gossip with about relationship things, and here it seemed that out-of-the-blue was that person. Louis stared at Zayn. Had he really been that enamored with Harry that he hadn’t noticed that Liam and Zayn had been keeping this ridiculously large secret for months?

“Hey, I need a smoke,” Zayn said, snapping Louis out of his thoughts, “can we go outside?”

Louis lagged behind Zayn so he could grab a blanket off the sofa, and if they stumbled the entire way there, neither noticed. They both plopped down on wrought-iron chairs and sat silently for a moment. Louis was still warring over whether or not he should bring up the issue he was having. He had already probably overwhelmed Zayn, but it was Zayn. Plus, he was probably too drunk to care.

“So—wow, it’s so weird talking about gay things with you, I love it—okay, so like, Liam tops, you said, right?”

“Yeah,” Zayn said with a nod.

“So, like, how exactly do you and Liam—“ Louis waved his hands around. Zayn lifted his eyebrows. “Like…God, this is odd…What positions do you do?”

“Er, well…all of them, I reckon?” Zayn answered honestly as he lit his cigarette. “Why?”

Louis’ mouth dropped. “You’re the mysterious one, but whatever. What I was going to say was that…Well, I was going to say a lot.” He looked to Zayn with an odd look on his face, as if asking if that would be okay or if that would just annoy him. Zayn’s unspoken look told Louis to continue.

“Harry and I’re really comfortable with each other. Like, even though I love you and this is way fun—way more fun now than I’d ever imagined—I feel really lonely that he’s not here. It’s crazy. I’ve never…felt like this about anyone before. Know what I mean?”

Zayn nodded and took a drag of his cigarette. Louis could tell Zayn didn’t feel like talking at the moment, so he continued, “And…the sex is really, really good. I dunno about you and Liam, but us…it’s really good.” Louis didn’t really know how to next phrase what he wanted to say without revealing the agreement he and Harry had in bed. He wasn’t about to share that particular aspect of his sex-life, drunk or not, so he paused for a moment while taking some deep breaths. “It’s just…I don’t ever want Harry to feel like he’s doing all the work…like, in bed…and I feel like that’s how it’s been lately.”

“What d’you mean?”

Louis bit his lip. He knew he was drunk when he divulged what he did next. “It’s hard to explain. He’s really into taking charge. And I love it. He loves it, too. We both kind of…get off on it. But I just don’t ever want him to get tired of it. Tired of me.”

“Please,” Zayn mumbled with a roll of his eyes.

“Really, it’s a legiti—legitimate concern,” Louis hiccupped. “How would Liam feel if you never rode him?”

Zayn laughed at Louis’ choice of words. “He’d miss it, I guess,” he answered with a shrug. “Wait, never? Does that mean—you’ve never…?”

“Well, don’t look at me like that,” Louis snapped, already feeling stupid that he had confessed what he had.

“Mate, relax.” Zayn put his hands up in a peaceful gesture. “It’s just…you’re such a bloody tease to him, I never would’ve guessed.”

“No, it’s—“ he laughed, his mood suddenly lifting as quickly as it had dropped, “—I really am, aren’t I? It’s just…I mean, well…I’d look all chubby if I was on top, so I just haven’t done it.”

There. He’d said it. He’d told Zayn what he couldn’t even tell Harry. Louis looked down to his stomach and pinched a bit of fat there, turning up his nose just imagining how it would move all around if he was on top of Harry.

“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me, Louis?”

“And he hasn’t said anything,” Louis continued, talking over Zayn, “cause like I said, we both like when he takes charge, so him on top, or behind, is just natural. And you know Harry, it’s not like he ever would say something, but…Yeah, I want to be on top sometimes. I want to, but I was saying earlier, I’ve not been with anyone but him, and I just want it to be good. I want him to like it.”

“Lou, Harry thinks the world of you. You really think he’d not like anything you did? And you’re not chubby,” Zayn added for clarification.

Louis shrugged. ”Harry is, like, whatever,” he said with a wave of his hand. “He honestly thinks too much of me. But me—I want to be good. For my own self. I want to be the shit at it. I want to know I’m doing a good job and for Harry to be, like, blown away by my skills and moves.”

“By your skills and moves,” Zayn repeated.

“Yeah,” Louis clarified with an impish grin.

“Then get a vibrator or something,” he suggested while obscenely moving up and down on his chair as if grinding on one. “Practice in front of a mirror.”

“Well, now that I know what you do…” Louis commented as Zayn burst out laughing.

“Hey,” Zayn said with a shrug of his shoulders. “No shame in my game.”

But that actually gave Louis a thought: he had a vibrator, had a dildo, had a bunch of little toys he was slightly ashamed of (that was, until Harry just about came in his pants when Louis showed him the box he kept them in).

“Yeah…” Louis responded, suddenly inspired. He could just practice...Maybe that would help a bit. He would be able to look at himself in the mirror and see just how he needed to suck in his stomach for him to look good. It actually could be a real solution… Normally he just laid on his back with his knees bent and fucked himself like that, imagining Harry looming on top of him. Now he had a great idea.

With Louis’ worries mollified, he was happy and excited to gossip about Liam again. The conversation continued outside on the balcony—Zayn smoked so much when he was drunk. Zayn shared quite a bit, and Louis was absolutely giddy. As the night went on, they both grew tired of talking, and the conversation died down.

Both of the boys were silent for a bit, then Louis exclaimed, “Hey!”

“Jesus,” Zayn complained, lighting another cigarette. “You are so loud.”

“Yeah,” Louis agreed. “Can I tell Harry about this? About you and Leeyum? Or is this private secret time?”

Zayn shrugged. “I figured you were going to anyway. Liam’s ready to tell everyone, anyway. He’s fine with it—you know how he hates secrets. He’s probably telling Niall right now as we speak.”

“And nobody thinks of poor Harold, all alone, left to his thoughts—”

“Well, why don’t you ring him, then? You haven’t even texted him all night.”

“Oh, shit. Well, he’ll understand once he finds out the importance of the night’s events.”

Zayn smiled. “Go talk to him, Lou,” he suggested, pulling his own phone out of his pocket and busying himself with texting. Louis stared at Zayn’s profile for a long moment. With his phone in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth, he really was an attractive person. Louis was honestly, brilliantly happy for him and Liam.

Louis stood up and immediately swayed. “Holy shit,” he muttered to himself, holding his hands out in front of his body to balance himself.

“All right?” Zayn asked from his chair, chuckling.

Louis could only nod slightly, then he hiccupped. “Bed. Love you, Zaynie!”

Not realizing he was as drunk as he was until he began walking, he found that he had to hold onto the wall to get himself up the stairs and down the hall to his room. He took his mobile out of his pocket and gripped it in his hand for dear life before undressing. He ripped his clothing off, and after getting stuck in Harry’s sweater and knocking a few items off his nightstand, he collapsed in bed nude, still with his phone in hand.

Looking at the screen with one eye squinted shut, he realized he had a few missed messages from “Hazza.” How hadn’t he noticed that before?

Hazza [21:35] Louuuuu! vashapenin drinks

Hazza [22:10] how are you?

Hazza [22:53] text me when you get a chance :) if youre not too pissed

Hazza [23:57] hope youre okay and had a good night and all that stuff, love you

Boo Bear [00:27] Hyzaza!!!’ yeswasd good niteimnakesd

Immediately, Harry responded.

Hazza [00:27] whoa love youre hammered arent you

Boo Bear [00:28] no

Boo Bear [00:28] sporry I lied yes

Hazza [00:29] are you having a good time? why are you naked

Louis tried to respond that, yes, he had a good time, that Zayn was minutes away from being passed out on the balcony, that he probably drank about seven pints and who-knows-how-many shots throughout the course of the night, and that holy shit, did he have some news about Zayn and Liam, but his fingers were too big and fumbly for the stupid touch-screen. All that came out was a bunch of blurry nonsense, so he called Harry instead.

Curling up under the blankets while the phone rang, Louis’ dizziness was giving way to a more comfortable, buzzed feeling of contentedness.

“Lou, hey,” Harry answered almost straight away, and Louis smiled stupidly as he laid his head on Harry’s pillow. “You all right?”

“Mmm,” Louis said, smacking his lips. “I’m drunk.”

“I can tell.” Harry smiled fondly, wishing he were drunk with Louis and not just slightly-buzzed by himself. “What’s up?”

Harry agreed, “I know, baby, me, too.” Unfortunately, both of them knew that they had a few more nights of being separated, which meant a few more nights feeling this horrible loneliness that hit its hardest at night. “But you had fun?”

“I did,” Louis confirmed. His voice always sounded slightly higher when he was drunk, slightly child-like. For some reason, Harry was embarrassingly turned on by it. “Had a lot of fun.” Louis suddenly began chuckling until he was laughing loudly into the phone.

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at his boyfriend’s silliness, too. “What’s so funny?”

“Oh, are you?” Harry asked softly. He pulled back the duvet on his hotel bed and climbed in, trying to get cozy in between foreign sheets. He smirked and asked playfully, “All that talk with Zayn got you all worked up?”

“Yeah,” he admitted, thinking back to how he and Zayn had talked about Harry and how Louis couldn’t get the idea of riding Harry out of his head now. He was lost in his quiet fantasies when he noticed that Harry wasn’t saying anything anymore. “…Harry?”

“Look, I…” Harry’s voice was different. “I thought you were taking the piss about the threesome, but if—if that’s something you really want to do, I mean, I guess I could find a way to be okay with it.” Louis’ brain tried to make sense of what he was hearing as Harry rambled on. “Just the thought of sharing you, though, it—”

“No!” Louis cut him off, not realizing what Harry had thought he meant. He realized that he must have no idea how he sounded because he had been getting misunderstood left and right all night. “That’s not what I meant at all. At all. I don’t want to have a threesome, Jesus.”

“Oh,” Harry said nonchalantly, trying not to show just how pleased he was with that answer. “Just talking about it, though, got you horny?” Harry smiled.

“No, that’s not necessarily…no,” Louis replied. Feeling like he needed to explain himself but not knowing how, he rambled quickly. “I mean…don’t be mad, okay? It’s—I got really excited that Zayn bottoms, too,” (“Knew it,” interrupted Harry) “and we were talking about it and stuff, about…I don’t know, sex stuff. And it made me think of you, and now I can’t stop thinking of you.”

“Ah,” Harry couldn’t help but feel happy to hear that. “Why would I be mad at that?”

“I dunno. I never talk about our sex life with anyone. I felt like I was, like, telling this big secret or something.”

“…What exactly did you talk about?” Harry’s brain thought back to a lot of pretty private sexual events with Louis. Both of them were virgins when they met, so they fooled around a lot before they actually started having sex. And just pretty recently they’d gotten into a relatively new aspect of sex together, this mild domination kink that both of them discovered. All of the bandmates were like brothers, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted them to know that much just yet…

“Just how we have really good sex,” Louis told him, not wanting to share the part about how he’d told Zayn he’d never yet ridden Harry. “How much I fucking miss you when you’re away.”

“I know, babe. Me too,” he admitted. “It’s miserable.”

“What would you…be doing right now if you had me in bed with you?”

Harry bit his lip. It was rare that Louis would initiate talking dirty like this. They’d attempted this once or twice before, this phone-sex thing—if that’s what you wanted to call it—but Louis was always a bit self-conscious. He admitted to Harry that he liked it, but that saying things out loud made him feel a little awkward sometimes, especially on the phone. Louis usually would end up getting too overwhelmed, and normally Harry just whispered dirty things into the phone and listened to Louis’ breathing until he finally came. Harry couldn’t help being a little worried that Louis was drunk, and he wondered if that was the only reason Louis was asking that.

“I would get you a huge glass of water and kiss and cuddle with you all night,” Harry answered, keeping it light.

“Relax, love, relax,” Harry soothed. “I do want to. I just want you to remember it if we do.”

“I’ll remember it,” Louis swore.

“Okay,” Harry responded reluctantly. “We’ll try, then, how’s that?”

“Yesss,” Louis sang.

“You going to be good?”

“You know I’ll be good, Harry.”

“What was that?”

“Yes, yes, I’ll be good.”

Harry knew how hard this could be for Louis. He vowed to do everything he could to make Louis more comfortable with this whole thing, and that started with getting him in the correct headspace. To try to put Louis at ease, he asked a simple question: “Whose side of the bed are you on, baby? Mine or yours?”

“I’m in the middle,” Louis answered. “All sprawled out.”

“Mmm…bet you are.”

Louis giggled. “Where are you at? What are you doing?”

“Don’t worry about me—this is about you, not me.”

“Oh,” Louis replied breathlessly, “okay. But will you tell me what you’re doing….later on?” Louis didn’t know another way to phrase “once this gets started.” It still was a relatively awkward thing to be doing, and Louis was shit at trying to say sexy things. Luckily, Harry was a natural, and normally, Louis just took his lead.

Harry’s reply was simple. “What did I just say?”

“This is about me, not you.”

“Say it again.” Harry’s dominant side was coming out already, and Louis almost melted into the bed in pleasure.

“This is about me, not you.”

“Good. And since it’s all about you, I’m going to make it very good for you, baby. But you’ve got to be a very good listener.”

“I will be,” Louis promised. “I’ll be a good listener.”

“Okay, I’m trusting you to be… And Lou,” he added quieter, “since I can’t be there with you…just tell me if there’s something you don’t want to do. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want. I just want it to feel good for you.”

Louis nodded, but quickly realized he couldn’t be seen. “Kay.”

Harry smiled. “So, Lou, you got the lights on or off?”

“Off.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, love, I want you to be able to see—”

“I can see,” Louis interrupted excitedly. “Light from outside’s coming in.” Harry suddenly felt a longing for his bed. He knew exactly what Louis was describing, knew exactly how the moon lit up Louis’ body at night, knew exactly how each beam accentuated every one of Louis’ lovely curves.

“Good,” he answered simply. “So, you asked the question earlier, but now I want to know…What would you want me to do if I was there in bed with you?”

"I’d want…God…”

“It’s just me, babe,” Harry reminded him.

“Yeah,” Louis agreed, heart beating wildly against his chest. Harry was completely right, Louis thought; he had nothing to be nervous about. “Well, first,” Louis spoke, “I’d want you to touch me. Your hands always feel good when you touch me all over.” He closed his eyes and imagined Harry doing just that as he slightly ran his fingertips up and down his torso.

“And you always feel good underneath my hands,” Harry added. “If I were there,” he continued, easing Louis into the fantasy, “I’d start by kissing your lips. I’d kiss you like I hadn’t seen you in months, and you’d put your fingers in my hair like you always do.”

Louis pushed the covers back with his feet, finding he’d gotten too hot to have them covering him. He looked down and noticed he was completely hard, but for the time being, he didn’t touch. He desperately listened to Harry.

“I’d get on top of you,” Harry continued, “get in between your legs, grind into you. And I’d move to your neck, and suck a bruise there, and feel you breathing underneath me. You’d be moaning all sexy like you always do when I bite you.”

Louis’ breath was picking up now, and he couldn’t resist taking hold of his cock, squeezing his eyes while he slowly pumped himself up and down.

“And then I’d start touching you all over,” Harry continued. “What would you want me to do next, baby?”

Louis couldn’t get the idea of riding Harry out of his head. He figured if he was going to bring it up, it was now or never. “Um, roll me over.”

“Yeah…I just want to be on top of you, want to rub myself all over you. Feel you hard underneath me.”

Harry moaned. Louis’d never mentioned anything like this before; Harry locked this information away to talk about later. “Mmm. Do you, now?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, “I think about it all the time, Harry. I want to be on top of you and ride you real bad. So bad. I’d be good for you and everything. I promise I’d be good.”

“Jesus…” Harry whispered, palming himself lightly. “Yeah, I know you’d be good, baby. You’re always so good, aren’t you?” He added a second later, “You can ride my cock any time you want, you know. I’d love it…”

“You would?” Louis’ hand resumed working quickly on his cock, moving the wetness from the tip down to the sides with his thumb.

“Of course I would, baby. I can see you now…Sweating, panting, moaning…”

Harry could hear Louis very well in the silence that followed, could hear tiny catches of breath and a slight slapping sound, and he knew what Louis was doing. “Louis, stop. Take your hand off your dick.”

Harry almost growled. He wanted to appear in-control for Louis, though, so he got himself into the correct mindset to give Lou what he needed. “Eventually. Get the lube from out my drawer,” he instructed. He was going to take this new information from Louis and hopefully make it a memorable night for him.

Louis did as he was told and smirked when he noticed that the bottle was almost empty. When Harry heard the bottle click open, he was quick to reprimand Louis. “I didn’t say to do anything with it yet.” Louis’ hands froze. “Since I’m not there with you, you need to be a good listener.”

“Okay,” Louis told him, moving his head to rest the phone on his shoulder. It was horribly hot, and he was glad that it had a good charge.

“Sit up, Lou. Sit up on your knees and face the headboard.”

Louis moved quickly to obey, finding that taking orders from Harry had been having a sobering effect on him. Instead of feeling shit-faced as he had before the phone call, he now felt love-drunk—the perfect feeling of floatiness and arousal. “Okay…now what?” he asked while he sat up on his knees and rested his bum on his calves.

“Place a pillow between your legs. Straddle it.” Louis followed Harry’s commands. He wiggled his bum around to snugly rest on the pillow and listened quietly for more instructions.

“I want you to listen to me for a minute.”

Louis was anxious. “I’m listening.”

“This is important. Do not touch your cock. Pretend that I’m there watching you. What happens when you touch your cock when I’m there watching you?”

“I get punished. Unless you tell me to touch. But sometimes I still do it anyway,” he rambled, “‘cause I want to be spanked.”

Harry chuckled softly. “Yeah, you’re a little brat, aren’t you baby?” Louis bit his lip and smiled. “…But you understand what I asked?”

“I understand.”

“Good. If at any time you feel like you’re going to come, you’ll tell me so. You won’t come without asking first.”

“Okay, yeah, I know, okay.”

“Now I want you to open the bottle. Cover your fingers. Make ‘em all wet.”

Louis again rested the phone on his right shoulder as he gratefully did what Harry asked. He knew what was coming next; he impatiently waited for Harry to give the next instruction.

“Which hand did you choose?”

“Left,” Louis whispered.

“Reach down in between your legs with your left hand, under your balls. Touch your hole.”

Louis held onto the phone again with his right hand as he did what Harry asked, just wetting his tight hole. He shuddered out a breath as he fought his instincts to move, still waiting to hear from Harry what he wanted him to do.

“Put a finger inside your arse, Lou. Sit down on it.” Louis sucked in a deep breath before sinking down completely on his index finger with his back completely straight. Harry intently listened for Louis’ hitch in breath, and when he heard it, he asked, “How’s it feel?”

“Good, good, but I want more,” Louis answered honestly.

“Be good for me, and you’ll get more,” Harry promised. “Lift yourself up and lower yourself down on your finger, baby. Fuck yourself on it.”

Louis was thrilled to finally move, and he did so with eagerness. “Oh, God, I wish you were here, Harry,” Louis whined. “Your fingers are so much better.”

Harry’s groan was audible over the line as he pressed a little harder onto his cock. “Pretend they’re mine. Pretend I’m right there, remember? Add another one,” he told Louis while peeling off his tight black jeans and underwear at the same time.

“Fuck,” Louis shuddered, feeling himself stretch open even wider.

“Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You love it when I fuck you with my fingers... Always lay there and beg me to just fuck you with my cock…”

“Yeah,” Louis repeated. It seemed that was all he was capable of saying at the moment, his mind a hazy fog of pleasure. Soon, his mouth was slack, emitting high-pitched moans as he got a little deeper inside himself. He looked down slightly at how his body looked while working himself on his fingers. His thighs were made for this. He saw his dick touch against his skin as he moved up and down, every brush against his leg just adding to the coiling inside of his tummy.

Harry was in awe of this boy that he was lucky enough to call his boyfriend. He was so fucking sexy. Reaching down to slowly jerk himself, he tried to keep his voice even as he asked, “You hittin’ your spot?”

“Yeah,” Louis moaned. “Can I—Can I—?”

“You can ask me, baby, can you what?”

“Can I add another one?”

“So fucking greedy,” Harry said as he started to stroke himself in earnest to Louis’ moans. “Just one more,” he answered.

Immediately, Louis put his three fingers together and rode his arse up and down on them faster and faster, picturing Harry right there in bed with him. Louis was being so loud already. He couldn’t help the little noises that left his mouth. He crooked his fingers inside of him perfectly and imagined that he was riding on Harry’s hand instead, that Harry was tormenting him by constantly hitting his prostate but not letting him come.

“Shit, I feel like I’m going to come already,” Louis gasped, quickly slamming his body down onto his fingers again and again.

“Stop moving,” Harry ordered.

Louis whined from the other end of the phone. “Harry,” he whimpered.

Harry ignored him. “Take your fingers out of your arse, Louis.” Louis wanted to protest, but he did as Harry asked. “Go into the closet,” Harry whispered. It was so low that Louis had thought he’d imagined it.

Louis hadn’t imagined it, though. “…Really?”

“Yes, really. Tell me when you’re there.”

Louis rolled out of the bed—still massively drunk but able to walk a little better—and stumbled to the closet. “I’m here,” Louis told Harry as he opened the door. “I’m—“ he cleared his throat. “I’m standing right here.”

“Grab your box and take it back to the bed with you.”

“But...”

“No buts,” Harry interrupted.

But I’m too short, Louis thought. He wanted to behave, though—even on the phone—and he looked around to try to find something he could step on. His eyes lit up when he found the rubbish bin in the corner of the room. He carelessly flipped it upside down and stood on top of it in front of the closet, using every bit of flexibility he had to reach back to where Harry kept the box. Just as he grabbed it, he slipped and fell against the frame of the door.

“Lou!” Harry exclaimed upon hearing a noise. “What was that?”

“Shiiiit,” Louis whined, holding his elbow while still keeping his phone to his ear.

“What happened?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Louis told him hurriedly.

“Don’t lie to me.”

Harry’s tone was so domineering, so deep. Louis couldn’t help but do anything the other boy told him to. “I fell,” he complained. “I’m too damn short, Harry.”

Shit, Harry thought from miles away. He had forgotten that he kept the box at the very top of the closet specifically because it was out of Louis’ reach. He thought about getting Louis to ask Zayn to get it for him…it wasn’t like he needed to know what was in it or anything, but—fuck that. Not when Louis was naked and Zayn was apparently into guys now.

Before Harry could think of a solution, Louis went on determinedly, “It’s okay, baby, it doesn’t hurt anymore. I’m going to get it.”

That’s my boy. “Be very careful,” Harry instructed in his ear. “Pretend I’m right there behind you holding you up.”

With that thought in his head, Louis attempted to get the box again. It would be almost funny out-of-context, him standing on a rubbish bin straining to grab a plain black shoebox from out of a too-tall closet, but it wasn’t. It was serious. That regular old shoebox held magic inside of it. Louis’d been collecting for years.

Harry listened attentively to Louis’ grunts and groans as he struggled to complete what would, for him, be an easy task. He listened to Louis’ excited proclamation once he got the box down and instructed him to take the same position on the bed again with the box to his side.

Louis smiled down at the toy in his hand. “It kind of looks like you, Harry. God, I wish it was you,” he complained for the millionth time that night.

“You’re going to pretend it is. I’m right there with you,” Harry reminded him. “You’re not alone. I’m the pillow between your legs, I’m the toy in your hand. If you close your eyes and imagine it, you can feel me rubbing my hands all over you, all over your arse, all over your beautiful tummy…all over your body…”

Louis closed his eyes and dropped his mouth as he tried to picture it. Harry was right; if he imagined it hard enough, Harry was right there below Louis, looking up at him in reverie.

Harry continued, “Now take the lube and pour it all over my cock.”

Louis moved his head to the side to rest the mobile between his ear and his shoulder, freeing up another hand. “Okay…I’m—I’m doing it.”

While Louis was preoccupied with his latest instruction, Harry whispered, “Your little fingers feel so good rubbing up and down my cock, baby.” Harry was rubbing his own cock at a torturously slow pace, forbidding himself to get carried away.

“Yeah, I’m getting you all wet,” Louis added, wondering if he’d ever been this turned on before. “Harry, are you…are you touching yourself?”

Harry saw no harm in being honest. “Been for a while now.”

Louis smiled. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Bet you are,” Harry said, turning the attention back to Louis, “slicking up your toy…Bet you can’t fucking wait to fuck yourself on it…Gonna fill up your arse so good, baby, make yourself come all over the sheets.”

Louis’ thighs shook in anticipation as he lifted his arse off the pillow and lowered himself gently on the toy. The burn was so good and so welcome, and all Louis could do was actually picture the dildo being Harry. Feeling like he was going to come already, he gritted out, “God, you feel so good inside me. Can I move? Please? Please tell me I can move.”

“Yeah, go on,” Harry allowed as he quickened his own pace, jerking his cock rhythmically.

Louis was good at this. He picked up his pace a little at a time until he was bouncing up and down steadily, his dick flopping up and down with each thrust. He’d gotten wet and sweaty in between his legs, and he was running on pure lust as he determinedly fucked himself harder and harder.

“Ungh, ungh, ungh,” he moaned wantonly as he rolled his nipple in his free hand, pinching it on each downward roll of his hips.

Harry held onto the base of his cock with his hand to keep himself from coming at Louis’ noises. “God, you’re so loud, baby.”

“Won’t stop, won’t stop,” Louis murmured. He’d taken to just grinding on the toy now, keeping it locked deep inside of him while rolling his hips. The tip relentlessly prodded that spot inside him, and he knew it wouldn’t be long now.

“Baby, oh my God,” Louis cried out, holding his tummy with one hand and squeezing his nipple with the other. He leaned forward slightly and looked down between his legs, loving how the dildo looked as it was nestled inside him.

Harry was still holding onto the base of his dick, trying desperately not to come until he heard Louis do so. His cock had turned a deep red, throbbing with each beat of his heart. “Fuck yourself so good on my cock, Lou, look at you,” he whispered, trying in vain to picture what Louis’d look like right in front of him. Harry pictured a sweaty, debauched Louis moaning filthily as he impaled himself again and again on his cock. His strong legs would strain to continue lifting himself up, but he’d still be so eager to do all the work that he would be relentless in his movements, refusing any assistance from Harry. “Is this—is this something you wanna do when I get back?”

“Yeah,” Louis panted. “God, yes.”

“God, do you have any clue how much I want to see you right now?” Harry let slip. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re doing.”

“’M sat all the way down…” Louis sounded utterly wrecked. “My arse is touching the pillow…I’m just rocking back and forth now…So deep…”

“Yeah,” Harry continued, loving that Louis was saying so much. “You always look so fucking sexy, Lou, when you shake and fall apart and just keep coming—”

“Oh, shit.”

Louis reached out to grab more pillows and scrambled to place them in a pile in front of him, a pile that looked and felt exactly like Harry’s body underneath him. He rested his elbows on the pile as he quickly switched to speakerphone, placing the mobile right in between his arms. Harry consistently heard Louis’ heavy panting as he relentlessly rocked up and down on the dildo, rapidly chasing release.

“I wanna feel you come on my cock, Lou, want your cum all over me.” He could tell Louis wouldn’t be saying anything else because his breathing was so loud and exerted, so he kept talking him through it. “And when you come, I’d hold onto you even harder and pound up into that hole ‘til you cry—”

Louis squeezed the pillows in front of him strongly enough to tear them apart while he bit down on the fabric of the pillowcase, keening as his body shook. Noises he’d later be embarrassed by fell from his mouth, and he hotly panted against the linen and into the phone as his movements became erratic. Every muscle in his entire body tensed as he let out one final cry of “Harry!” and felt hot liquid burst out of him from below.

He rode out his orgasm, slowing his hips down leisurely while trying to catch his breathing. Keeping the dildo inside of him, he sat up fully again and noticed the complete mess he’d made all over the pillows. Dazed, he reached back out to the phone and switched it off speakerphone. On the other end of the line, all was quiet save for more heavy breathing. Louis’ head began to pound as the blood returned to it, and he had a blank, shocked look on his face.

“I can’t believe I just came that hard,” he laughed as his chest rose and fell.

“You are so unbelievably perfect,” was Harry’s slow, deep response. He sounded like he’d run a marathon.

Though neither boy was saying anything at the time, Louis kept the phone to his ear. He carefully removed the dildo from himself and tossed it on the side of the bed, quickly followed by all the pillows. He sprawled his limbs out like a starfish and stared at the ceiling while he came back to his senses. Harry, meanwhile, was clumsily cleaning himself off with the thinnest bedside tissues he’d ever seen.

A few silent moments passed again, and Harry debated if he should bring up what he was thinking about, but he was interested...

“You said you think about that all the time,” Harry mused, “riding me.”

“Yeah,” Louis answered, dreading where this was going to go.

“If you think about it all the time, baby, why haven’t you said anything? Just curious.”

Louis didn’t answer immediately. He wanted to get out of the question, but he knew Harry would be persistent if he tried to avoid the topic. It would be best to be open with him. “Cause I’d look fat,” he said softly. “My stomach…It’s fat.”

Harry was silent for a long moment. Louis cringed because he knew that he had ruined the mood, the lovely afterglow that they were sharing. “That’s really what you think?”

Louis felt like crying all of a sudden but simultaneously felt good getting this off his chest. “I mean…well…yeah.”

“You’ve felt like this for a long time, then,” Harry stated.

All Louis could think to say was, “Sorry.”

“Baby, I really wish you didn’t think that…that’s so far from the truth. You are, by far, the sexiest guy—person—I’ve ever seen,” Harry confessed. “You have a little extra right there, sure, but you have a little extra in your arse, too, and you seem to like that, don’t you?”

“Well, that’s generally a better place to be bigger at.”

“Says who?”

“Says everybody!”

“Name one person who has said that to you besides yourself.” Louis couldn’t answer the question, even when Harry gave him almost an entire minute to do so. “That’s what I thought. I’m not just saying this because I love you, but you are perfect just the way you are. …I’m so sorry you’ve felt like this for so long.”

Louis sighed.

“After I first met you,” Harry continued, “you want to know what I did that night?”

“What?”

“I thought about you all night. I jerked off for, like, an hour thinking of you.”

“Really?” Louis asked, surprised that he’d never known that before. “We had only talked for, like, five minutes.”

“Well, yeah, but I couldn’t get you out of my head. All of you. Literally from your head to your toes. Your hair, and your eyes, and that smile. Your arse, your legs, your feet. Your stomach. Your stomach’s gorgeous, Lou.”

“You, you’re gorgeous. Me, I’m okay but with a pouch around my waist.”

“Please. Everyone has stuff that they don’t like about them. It just seems like it’s this vast, obvious issue, but to everyone else, they don’t even notice little things like that because they’re too busy looking at how good you are as a person.”

“Harry the Wise, everybody,” Louis said. “Everybody has stuff they don’t like about themselves, you say? And what don’t you like about yourself, then? You’ve nothing to not like.”

“Er, my skin, mostly,” Harry answered.

“What? Your skin’s fine.”

Harry scoffed. “See what I’m saying? That’s exactly my point, Lou. What I’m the most insecure about, you don’t even pay attention to. Look, I’ve learned to live with the fact that sometimes my skin’s smooth and sometimes it’s not. It doesn’t change who I am or anything. And just because you have a little extra weight—and Lou, I really mean a little extra, it’s so unnoticeable, baby—around your waist, how is that even supposed to affect who you are as a person?”